{S. P.} _(hurt)_ Thank you.
{Kate.} Would you--_(noticing his face)_ Oh dear
{S. P.} I beg pardon.
{Kate.} Would you--would you like anything to drink?
{S. P.} _(quickly)_ Yes.
{Kate.} Christie!
{Gil.} Christie!
{Kate.} _(sorrowfully)_ Are you quite sure?
{S. P.} Positive, _(sits R., of table)_
_(Chris, appears at door L.)_
{Kate.} Christie! _(emphatically)_ Milk!
{S. P.} Er--I should prefer ale. _(rises quickly)_
{Chris.} The old cask has run out, and the new one isn"t to be tapped till to-morrow.
{S. P.} I don"t think I really need anything. I"m very moderate. Thank you. Good day!
_(Robjohns puts mug on form, rises and goes up stage wiping mouth.)_
_(Shabby Person hurries off through archway; Kate laughs.)_
{Kate.} Good-bye, Master Robjohns!
{Rob.} _(turning round, up stage)_ Father"s respects, and he has always heretofore cut up the ducks at the harvest feast.
{Kate.} Well?
{Rob.} Father"s mortally fond of duck, but he always cut "em up fairly and friendly.
{Kate.} Yes?
{Rob.} My best respects to you, Squire, and as I come, in place of father, I hope you"ll make no difference. Good day to ye, Squire.
_(He goes off through archway. Kate rises, goes up C., and down L., C.)_
{Kate.} Thank you, Gilbert, for thinking so much of to-morrow.
{Gil.} _(looking at her earnestly)_ Don"t name it, Squire.
{Kate.} _(awkwardly)_ The summer"s over--the winds are getting quite cold--good afternoon, Gilbert.
_(Kate takes shawl off stone and goes towards steps, where Gilbert intercepts her.)_
{Gil.} Squire!
{Kate.} Yes?
{Gil.} Will you listen to me?
{Kate.} _(L. C.)_ Business?
{Gil.} _(R. of her)_ The business of my life.
{Kate.} Oh, Gilbert! Again? _(sits)_
{Gil.} _(puts gun down R., of archway)_ Squire-- Squire Kate, I--I can"t take "no" for an answer.
{Kate.} Are you a strong man or a weak one?
{Gil.} Strong enough to keep from drink and gambling, when you make me mad; weak enough to crawl about this place for the sake of a look from you. Strong enough to love you with all my soul; weak enough not to hate you for wrecking my life.
{Kate.} Don"t talk fiddle-de-dee nonsense about your life being wrecked. Gilbert, we were children together, we were lad and la.s.s together, and perhaps, if we both live, we may be old people together--but we mustn"t be man and woman together; it doesn"t answer. Now, tell me, what are you supposed to be on my land?
{Gil.} Folks call me the bailiff, but I"m more of a handyman. I work for Squire Kate, my dear master--and I love Squire Kate, my dear mistress.
{Kate.} Then take a word of advice--cut yourself adrift from Squire Kate"s ap.r.o.n strings. _(Gilbert turns away)_ When my father, John Verity, died, and left his girl alone in the world, you helped me out of debt and difficulty; but all the skill on earth can never squeeze more than bread and b.u.t.ter out of this dear broken-down old place. _(she rises)_ So go away where there"s a world for you, a world to work in and a world to live in. _(she holds out her hand to him)_ Thank you for the past. Good-bye.
{Gil.} _(R. C., falteringly)_ If I come back--rich-- in a year, would there be any chance for me?
{Kate.} _(in a whisper)_ No. _(crosses to R.)_
{Gil.} Good-bye, dear Squire Kate, _(goes to her)_
{Kate.} Good-bye, old friend Gilbert, _(they shake hands)_
_(She sits on garden seat, thoughtfully. Takes small purse from her pocket, looks at wedding ring in it, and kisses it. Gil. goes quickly up stage, then turns and looks at her; after a moment he comes softly, unperceived, to C.)_
{Gil.} _(quietly)_ Kate.
{Kate.} _(rising with a start)_ Eric!
{Gil.} Oh!
{Kate.} _(seeing Gil.)_ You!--why have you come back? _(reseating herself)_
{Gil.} _(bitterly)_ Eric! Eric! The young soldier who is privileged to wind the ap.r.o.n strings round his neck--who lolls away his leisure here with his feet higher than his head, and a cigar between his teeth.
{Kate.} _(confused)_ Don"t heed me--I don"t know what I have said!
{Gil.} Said! Called me by another man"s name.